


The Heart of the Empire.

by Dylina



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anxiety, Background of war, Destiny, Difficult Decisions, Dreams, Inheritance, Mention hubert von vestra, Mentioned Edelgard von Hresvelg, Moral Dilemmas, Painting, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28998375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylina/pseuds/Dylina
Summary: Should be follow the Emperor into battle? After Edelgard had declared war on the Church of Seiros, Ferdinand has a difficult decision to make. Wisdom comes from an unlikely source.
Kudos: 4





	The Heart of the Empire.

Vulnerability; a butterfly wing torn by the breeze, a heart made of glass and a new born yet to open his eyes and see the world; that was the position Ferdinand found himself in. Within the temporary military base he was a solitary warrior. His father had been disgraced, stripped of his title and held under house arrest. Being a good son, he found it difficult to push his feelings of concern and offence aside. Yes his father was a greedy and selfish man but he had worked hard for the Empire, to see him disrespected hurt. His family's safety was still a grave concern. There was no reason to murder them at present but in the future that could change. Edelgard had treated him like garbage, taken everything from him and left him with no dominion. To have his future ripped from him made him feel naked.

Naked; an unarmed soldier marching into battle with no hope of survival; that was how Ferdinand felt. Was there a target on his back? Suspicious eyes were weapons shooting him with unnerving looks. There was no need to see them, he could feel the glares. It was unsurprising that he was distrusted, he was the son of a corrupt noble and a cheerleader for the nobility, everything Edelgard aimed to destroy. He loved the nobility and the ideals associated with high office. Could he convince Edelgard to change her mind? In her world there would be no one with the qualifications to rule. There would be a power vacuum that could be manipulated by malevolent individuals and terror organizations. Peace would never truly be achieved and it would be the commoner that suffered due to the lack of hindsight. The protection for the innocent would be nothing.

Nothing; a beggar with an empty bowl, a king without a crown and a wanderer without a place to rest his head; that was how his situation seemed. At present he was nothing! His relationship with Edelgard was a snapped twig, it had been broken by her one minded determination to right the wrongs of the world. Whenever they spoke to each other, tension formed nooses around their necks and strangled the conversation. Hubert hung over her as a sinister vulture ready to pick at the corpses of the unworthy.

Unworthy; there was no chance he would ever best Edelgard at anything. It was similar to competing with a deity. All his attempts had resulted in absolute humiliation. If she wanted to she could make him her bitch and there was nothing he could do about it. He was a ghostly puppet lurking in the periphery. Periphery; an outsider looking in, he could only reach for Edelgard's inner circle and hope someone saw him and let him in. Edelgard and Hubert; there were walls around them, tall walls for him to try and scale. There were no doors, just windows a person could glimpse briefly into. Once he had overheard a conversation between the pair. Hubert was different, softer, gentler and strangely poetic. There was something special between them, something deeper than blood, stronger than friendship and purer than love.

Love; he loved the Empire and the rich history he had read about. The heroes, the powerful leaders and the mythology inspired him. On the wall of Aegir castle was a portrait of the infamous warrior prime minister. Every time he looked upon that majestic painting he felt his heart fill with admiration and determination. He was a sage leader, a fine warrior and a trusted confidante of the Emperor, everything he aspired to be. Perhaps that was part of the reason he had followed Edelgard, Hubert and Byleth to this dank military base. He couldn't betray the legacy his ancestors worked so hard to pave. Loyalty or foolishness; two sides of the same coin in this instance, fighting against the Church of Seiros could end up in death and despair. Should he be loyal to an Emperor who planned to uproot the foundations the Empire was built upon and create a new order? There were so many decisions to be made and little time to fully consider them. He may have had his title removed but in his heart he was still a noble. Edelgard could not take that away from him. He would fight and ascend the mountains until he reached the peak, his destiny.

Destiny; could it be that he had to wallow in a bottomless pit to appreciate being upon the highest peak? Was it his destiny to be humbled before rising like a pheonix from the flames? His path was an arduous one, full of obstacles and broken stepping stones.Now he had reached a fork in the road and a choice had to be made.

Ferdinand had purposely chosen to isolate himself in a dim corner of the base. Darkness and cobwebs veiled him in the gloom. Alone with his thoughts could be perilous. His capability to slowly and deliberately destroy his confidence was amble. Every now and again he would glance over his shoulder in the direction of Edelgard and Hubert. Edelgard had skilfully crafted a formidable silhouette always pointing forward, never yielding and merciless. Hubert was her shadow, his intimidating silhouette haunted her every move. Once upon a time he had considered her humble servant nothing more than a pet and a merchant of secrecy. He followed her like an obedient pooch at times but at other times he did things behind her back. Hubert deserved to be on a leash to stop his devious activities.

Battling, running and survival had all taken it's toll on him. His arms ached from axe wielding, his legs felt like bronze due to his rspid his retreat from the Immaculate One and just staying alive had exhausted his mind. Sleep was a necessity but he feared letting down his guard, someone could slaughter him. There was no choice, he needed to rest if he was going to be useful on the battlefield. So he removed his cape, bundled it up to form a pillow and laid his head upon it. Sleep shrouded him slowly, it took several blinks before the weight of his eyelids sealed his eyes shut. A position of security was similar to a hedgehog, a curled up ball. His breathing softened as his dreams painted over his anxiety.

_He was at home, surrounded by comforting familiarity and the love of his family. In his dreams he still had his dominion, he was still officially a noble and his father wasn't in any danger. As he paced the grand corridors he admired the line of portraits which depicted the past prime ministers. It was a sight which filled him with pride. The past, his ancestry and their legacy had been captured in their faces by the most gifted artist of the time. As a child his father and mother would sit him upon their knee and tell stories of their exploits. These stories were part of the intricate tapestry which made him the determined and kind man he was today. or_

_He strolled upon the plush carpet which seemed to stretch far into the horizon down the infamous Aegir hall of fame. His eyes gave each portrait dedicated examination, admiring the inherited fignger hair and paprika eyes upon each man. Occasionally his eyes would trace the symbols upon the wallpaper, the crest of Cichol, passed on from each prime minister. Finally he halted at his personal favourite ancestor: the warrior prime minister Derik von Aegir. He was a renown warrior who lead his soldiers into glorious battle. Success after success created numerous legends. In one take he offered his head so his men may live. Ferdinand aspired to be as noble, as honourable and as mighty as he was. With wide eyes and a mind full of fantasy he lingered upon his favourite portrait wondering what Derik would have done in his position. Suddenly Derik's eyes moved settling upon the young man. At first Ferdinand believed he was hallucinating until his chest started to rise and fall with the pattern of breathing. The initial reaction was to jolt back in fright. Every part of him symbolised his fear from the glare of his flickering eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the curl of his tiptoes ready to run, the stagger of his breathing and the goosebumps all over his skin. Despite paleness being an inherited trait, he still managed to turn as white as bedsheets. a_

_"Ferdinand, my dear boy, do not be afraid." The voice boomed from the painting sending Ferdinand hurtling backwards into the opposite wall. His back was pressed soo firmly that he nearly embedded himself in the wallpaper. The request to 'not be afraid' had been objected. No words of response were made, just a trembling of lip and more quivering breaths. Fear was painful, Every heartbeat threatened to explode from his chest and then evacuate the area._

_"I am Duke Derik von Aegir, you are the one walking the path I once tread. My path was painted with blood; a long and winding path with many signposts to choose from. Sometimes these signposts were obscured by the ghosts of my victims. Corpse upon corpse; the sacrifice for stability and peace is high. To make the decision to go to war is never an easy one. It is a moral calculus without a monopoly on truth. For every argument there will always be rhetoric." Ferdinand was still encased in his fear, his heart had wandered into his mouth, choking his voice. He swallowed hard, an attempt to return his heart to his chest. F_

_"Edelgard wants to destroy the nobility. I do not believe in her aim but… I love Adrestria, I feel devotion towards the Empire. What do I do?" His voice cracked as he spoke, vulnerability shone through in every word. "Could I convince her that there is value in keeping the nobility? I understand that there is corruption, my father is a prime example. There is a desperate need for reform but to destroy the nobility without something to replace it, well... it is reckless." Ferdinand rubbed his head, the weight of his decision had strained his brain, almost crushing it. it_

_"You are the next Duke Aegir, you have been trained to advise and guide. Edelgard does not foresee the problems her ideals cause, nor does she have the imagination and ingenuity to solve them. She is a War Empress, the body, the face people can get behind. Hubert is the brains of the Empire. You, Ferdinand, you are the heart of the Empire. A body needs brains and heart to guide them." Every word was spoken with true commitment to the meaning they possessed. Charisma, he oozed with it, he held Ferdinand's attention and did not relent until he was finished his piece._

_"I am the heart of the Empire." Positivity shattered the barrier of his fear and guided him to a brighter frontier. A smile formed from the sunbeams of his confidence which filled him with renewed energy. "Yes, I am the heart of Adrestria." Now he spoke with sparkling effervescence, hope and determination. He swept down into a bow towards the painting. "Thank you, your wisdom has been invaluable."_

A gasp and a croak in his throat, all the symptoms of sudden awakening. He shot upwards, gazing wildly into the gloom, the echo of 'the heart of Adrestria' in his ears as he sat for an undetermined period of time. Several wayward strands were pushed from his face as he focused upon the 'face' and the 'brains ' of the Empire. Together they were a formidable presence, unflinching and unwavering like a tsunami upon the shore. Together they threatened to wash away anyone who got in their way. They needed him, needed his heart to stop them flooding everything, to prevent them from leaving the world they wished to create drowned in adversity.


End file.
